


Keeper Of The Peace

by A_Damned_Scientist



Category: Farscape
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Angst, Challenge Response, F/M, Gen, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Damned_Scientist/pseuds/A_Damned_Scientist
Summary: My response to JJ’s SC118: PK John: What led to John being the PK Captain we saw in Unrealised Reality?
Relationships: John Crichton/Aeryn Sun
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers and warnings: Well, to turn John into the PK we saw in Unrealised Realities isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea. It may seem at times like this fic is shippy, but be warned, there is going to be a fairly strong angsty punch at the end. It is not just John who was changed by his time aboard Moya, after all. You have been warned. I have, however, kept the language, sex and violence to a broadly PG-13 level. 
> 
> Warnings: Angst, sexual suggestiveness, violent suggestiveness, nothing graphic though. Not betad and not mine, no money made. Caveat Lector, though. There are no happy endings in the Peacekeepers.
> 
> This may, or may not, still be a WIP as this is a story that struggles to be told in a short or medium format, and Real Life is not conducive to me writing fics right now. I got as far as late Season One, which goes a long way to explain the John we saw in UR, but not all the way. I may find time and inspiration to continue the story in the next couple of months, but I make no promises. Best to consider this story complete. I think it stands in its own right and explains how John got on the path to becoming that PK captain.

“We can no more trust you than we can trust that!” The small, green foul-mouthed Yoda-wannabe who had earlier been introduced as Rygel smirked.

John turned to where Rygel had indicated, at last registering that he had a cell mate: a humanoid dressed in some sort of all black flight suit, less heavily built than him but bulked out and form obscured by the suit.

As John watched, wondering how worried he should be by Rygel’s words, the figure began to remove their black-visored helmet. Short cropped, dark hair sat atop the head of a young human male, apparently aged about 30, His expressions and actions betraying his grogginess. 

A human, at last! John advanced, smiling in recognition of familiar human features and in hope that this nightmare would soon end.

“John… John Crichton,” he attempted to introduce himself as he reached out a hand in greeting. The male stared at John’s extended arm as though trying to figure out what to do with it, although it was hard to be sure as his expression was unchanged, betraying nothing of what he might actually be thinking. Finally, as John came within arm’s length, the black clad male seemed to come to a decision.

He stood, holding his hands behind him at parade rest.

“Lieutenant Miklo Braca, Zeno Company, Pliesar Regiment. What is your specialty, tech? And what regiment are you assigned to?” He demanded imperiously.

“Specialty? Regiment? Oh, no no no, you got it all wrong, I’m not one of your guys, I’m not in the military, well, not in any military you’d recognise.” John attempted to disarm his new, confused frown into a smile. Braca arched an eyebrow but otherwise his face remained impassive.

“Interesting.” Braca mused, but didn’t specify what was interesting. He shrugged. “But no matter. Our first priority is to escape.”

“Our first priority is to eat!” The booming voice that John recognised as belonging to the giant, red, tentacle-headed male from earlier, pronounced from behind him.

“Eat what?” John asked nervously, earning a humorously quirked eyebrow from the big red guy.

@@@

“Good work,” Braca acknowledged with a nod, his expression remaining otherwise impassive as John handed him the fork that he had managed to hide up his sleeve earlier, while Braca had been struggling with D’Argo in the galley over a different piece of purloined cutlery. “Peacekeeper or not, when we get off this ship, you ought to come with me. You keep helping me like that, and I will do my best to get my people to help you.” 

“Sounds like a plan!” John grinned. Braca clearly belonged to the local military. And military meant resources, resources which might be useful in getting him home! Braca merely nodded. 

“But you must claim to be sebacean, from a small colony. You have to drop this Human from Earth nonsense, it could be very dangerous for you.” Braca confided, voice, albeit not expression, laden with concern.

“Dangerous?” John was genuinely startled. Why should it be dangerous to reveal his true identity? “Whoa whoa whoa, I don’t like the sound of that! Why would it be…?”

“Dangerous! The captain of my command carrier… Crais… he does not bear the burden of command well. He is prone to making rash and unfortunate command choices. Most recently, he promoted his own brother to commander of another of the carrier’s Prowler wings…”

“Prowler?” John enquirer. 

“A Prowler is a single seat combat craft…”

“What, like the one I had a close shave with when I arrived?”

“Indeed. Crais promoted his brother despite Tauvo having little feel for combat flight and no ability as a flight leader. You were just lucky it was my flight on patrol when you arrived: if that Prowler you collided with had been Tauvo’s you’d have probably killed the idiot, Crais would have hunted you down. Now you may be able to slip aboard unnoticed.”

“The pilot of the Prowler…?” John asked, remembering the slight collision and growing concerned now for the well-being of the pilot.

“Yal Henta? An excellent Pilot. It was only a glancing blow. She commed that she had it under control, before the leviathan starburst… and I got sucked along with it!”

“Good.” John nodded. “I wouldn’t want to think…” but Braca was already walking off down the corridor. John hurried after him like an excited teenage suitor. “So what’s your plan, Braca my man?”

A frown briefly crossed Braca’s usually impassive features as he tried to parse John’s patois. But it soon passed.

“Get off this leviathan and comm the Command Carrier to pick us up,” Braca sighed as though it should be obvious, barely breaking his stride. “And then they can recapture the escaped…”

“Hey, these guys haven’t done anything to us!” John snagged Braca’s elbow, swinging the smaller man round too face him. “How about we show them a little compassion?”

“Compassion? I’m not familiar with this…” Braca frowned slightly.

“Seriously? Compassion? Wh- you're kidding right? It's a feeling that you have when you see someone else’s pain and instead of taking advantage of their weakness you help 'em.” John spluttered. Braca shrugged.

“Hmm, well, frankly I don’t care if they escape or not. My concern is for the men and women of my unit and how to protect them from Captain Crais’ worst excesses. He will be furious if the prisoners get away with this Leviathan.” Braca explained, continuing his walk towards the docking bay. “Come on if you’re coming.” He added to a bemused John.

“Is this Crais guy really so bad?” John asked, catching up as Braca reached the docking bay. 

Next to John’s white module was a larger, angular, angry looking ship whose lines fairly shouted ‘space fighter’. John recalled the collision he had had when he’d first arrived through the wormhole, with a ship possibly identical to this one: John guessed that the scary looking ship was Braca’s Prowler.

“That’s YOUR ship?” Braca snorted at the sight of John’s module. John swallowed down the urge to take offence. He needed Braca and his people, after all, were he to stand a chance of finding a way home. “Frell, you’re braver than I realised.”

“Hey!” John protested, his resolve cracking. “That’s cutting edge technology!”

“We’re taking mine!” Braca retorted flatly. John knew his module wasn’t going to get him far, so he grudgingly agreed. Hopefully he’d get the chance to pick it up later?

@@@


	2. Two

John could scarcely believe it, but here he was, on an alien planet surrounded by strange, alien life forms, some of which made the Priest, the Warrior and the King they had left aboard Moya seem positively mundane in comparison.

Not that John had much time to appreciate his new surroundings. Braca was determined to hurry them along to the rendezvous point he had agreed with his command carrier during their short flight down to the planet.

“Lieutenant Braca….” A male voice queried from behind them. They turned to see a slightly older human looking male, dressed in a nifty black uniform, topped with a somewhat dubious-looking black leather cap. The man’s carefully trimmed goatee, tight ponytail and pursed-lipped frown added to John’s impression that this man might have just walked out of the sort of all-male bar that ole’ Reverend Miller would never have approved of. “And… friend?” The newcomer quirked a questioning eyebrow.

“Sir,” Braca acknowledged with a stilted nod. “This is John Crichton, a civilian tech from the colony we resupplied at last weeken. He was aboard the escaped leviathan finishing repairs to the Froonium Convertor when the prisoners escaped. He was most useful in helping me…”

“Whatever….” Crais dismissed Braca and Crichton alike with a wave of his hand. “Officer Sun!” He barked. A po-faced young woman with a flat butt, big, soulful Puss-in-boots grey eyes and a blank expression despite her with attractive features stepped forwards from the crowd of heavies behind Crais. “Take Lieutenant Braca and this Cretin person back to the carrier.”

Sun nodded curtly and turned to Braca. “Come on. Let’s get off this waste hole!” she sneered, clearly regarding her surroundings as beneath her, before turning on her heel and marching off without a backwards glance.

“I think she likes you,” John teased Braca. Braca merely snorted a disdainful and dismissive reply. As they headed off after her, he finally commented: “Officer Sun doesn’t like anyone very much. Try not to upset her.”

@@@

“So she’s Henta?” John asked as he and Braca entered one of the Command Carrier’s mess halls. 

It had been a busy few hours... or arns, John reminded himself. Call them arns or people will question your story. The place was huge – five, maybe ten times the size of an aircraft carrier back home. It was like a self-contained city in space, a city populated solely by the military. While Braca had walked him around, getting him assigned to a tech unit and showing him his quarters, John had asked what had become of the Leviathan, Moya, but Braca had firmly advised him that it was none of his concern and that he would be wise not to keep asking.

“Henta. The Pilot you collided with.” Braca nodded in the affirmative. John wasted no time in striding over to the tall woman and sticking both feet in his mouth.

“Officer Henta? I just wanted to apologise for that… it was my ship that you collided with out in the asteroid field.” Henta stared at him with cold fury. It slowly dawned on John that she was probably seriously thinking about thumping him.

“You never could fly for…” her companion, a tall, thin woman standing almost between them but with her back to John began to tease.

“Shut up, Aeryn!” Henta scowled. “Did you just come over to embarrass me, tech? Frell off!” 

“Umm, OK…” John conceded, backing off to a safe distance before turning and walking away. As he did so he pondered the vaguely familiar voice of the back-turned speaker. Where did he know her from? He glanced around, just as the erstwhile speaker did the same. The delightful Officer Sun! Was that the hint of a smile playing on those fierce lips? He winked at her. She did not return the gesture. Nevertheless, John was certainly grinning to himself as he turned back towards Braca.

“I did advise against talking to Henta.” Braca sighed as they settled at a distant table for third meal. “You were lucky you didn’t collide with her friend, Officer Sun… she would have probably beaten the dren out of you….”

“Aeryn? No, she’s a sweet girl. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose,” John winked at Miklo. Braca merely snorted in amusement and shook his head.

Aeryn. Sun. Hmm. Even though she was hardly John’s Type, not being blonde, soft, girly or obviously fun, there was something about Officer-Dominatrix Sun. Something kind of… appealing. The thought of her beating the dren out of him was kinda appealing. Even though the reality would probably be totally different.

Braca’s words sprang back into John’s head, an arn and several razlaks later: He had just excused himself and headed, somewhat unsteadily, out of the mess and down the first of many corridors towards the tiny quarters he’d been assigned earlier that day. The only warning he had was the sound of a couple of steps approaching swiftly behind him. Then, as the footsteps reached him, he found himself being spun and shoved roughly against the wall. Was he about to get hazed as the New Boy? 

John’s eyes focussed on the angry features of Officer Aeryn Sun. Shit, he hadn’t been expecting a girl. Damn she was strong! He’d never been hazed by a girl before.

John was bracing himself for some sort of violent blow, presumably as revenge extracted on behalf of her friend, Henta, when to his shock and surprise, the grim-faced Aeryn Sun leant in and kissed him roughly on the lips. 

Well, that was unexpected. It beat being beaten up. Maybe that was next? Who knew with these Peacekeepers? They seemed a pretty rum bunch.

For a few seconds John was too shocked to respond to her kiss, but then the feeling of her boobs pressed firmly against his chest, her tongue invading his mouth and one of her hands sizing up his bulge activated his libidinous autopilot. The ample alcohol in his system stripped away the last of his inhibitions. He kissed her back, his hand seeking the curve of her butt and finding it considerably flatter and leaner than what he was used to with Earth-girls. Or maybe it was just the Earth-girls he was used to? She didn’t seem that different, not really, or so he told himself.

Finally Officer Sun broke the kiss, almost as roughly and inelegantly as she had started it. Although her hand was still sizing up his bulge. Clearly she wasn’t done. John could feel his pulse pounding in his throat, his mind awhirl, wondering what she would do next. She was definitely in the pilots’ seat on this mission. 

“Found what you’re looking for?” He grinned at her, nodding down to indicate her exploring hand.

“You’re interesting, tech.” Her hand squeezed as though to emphasise her point. “My quarters. They’ll be bigger than the cupboard they’ll have assigned you. And we’ll need the space… for this.” Her hand squeezed once more, roughly this time. John yelped. She grinned back in a most predatory way. 

“Were you on some sort of special weapons programme?” She smirked at him. Were all alien girls so forward, he wondered?

“Are you sure you want to…? I have to warn you, I’m not like other boys,” John retorted, trying to play it cool. Shit, he hadn’t even been here half a day and some alien babe was making no bones about wanting to get into his pants!

“Oh, don’t worry, I can handle big,” she laughed. As she began to lead him off down the corridor, John suspected that she wasn’t making that claim up.


	3. Three

“Lieutenant Teeg, why are we still heading into the uncharted territories?” Braca asked as the XO was drawing the senior officers’ daily briefing to a close.

“Captain’s orders,” Teeg shrugged, picking up her briefing folios to make it clear that the meeting was over, and all discussion with it. “The escaped leviathan must be recaptured at all costs.” She stated in a parroting tone.

“But it was only a leviathan?” Asked Lieutenant Reljik. “Three prisoners. Surely the caravan needs…?”

“Captains. Orders.” Teeg restated with emphasis. She glared around the room daring anyone to say anything else. “Two of the prisoners are very important.” Fortunately nobody present realised that Moya was the leviathan from the gunship breeding project 18 monens earlier, or that that was the real reason why Crais was so intent on retrieving it. He didn’t really care about an almost forgotten Hynerian royal, or an even more forgotten Delvian murderer. And he certainly didn’t care about some obscure Luxan who was lucky not to have been quietly executed to save on the trouble of keeping him.

The assembled lieutenants began to file out and head off to their sections, allowing Teeg to breathe a sigh of relief. Although she did wonder how long their luck would hold. Sooner or later someone was going to find out that Captain Crais was disobeying orders from High Command in pursuing the leviathan into the Uncharted Territories. Well, she would eliminate that problem if and when it reared its head.

@@@

Aeryn awoke from an exceptionally deep sleep feeling unusually contented. As consciousness returned to her so did realisation as to why she felt so content. A large, well-muscled male body was spooned against her back, his firm, thick arm wrapped around her in a lose but effective hug, his nose and chin resting on her neck and shoulder respectively and his light snore in her ear signalling that he was still asleep. 

She hadn’t stayed more than half an arn with a recreation partner since Velorek, a couple of cycles earlier, but somehow the new tech, John Crouton… (What a peculiar name that was. He must have come from a remote colony. That would explain the ample hair. Amongst… Other… ample things)… John Crouton had been so entertaining for so long that they had ended up falling asleep after arns of most peculiarly engaging and entertaining recreation. For the fourth night this weeken. If she wasn’t careful the accumulated sleep deprivation was going to catch up with her and get her in trouble with her lieutenant. 

Aeryn smiled to herself at the memories of the last few nights. Hmm, Crouton would be well worth frelling again a few times. She pulled his arm tighter into the hollow between her cleavage, chin and her own arms. It felt… it felt… she struggled to find the words, but she knew that she liked the feeling.

Crouton stirred. Within seconds of waking his nose and lips were doing things to her neck which made her gasp involuntarily with pleasure. He was insatiable. She liked it.

“You were louder than that last night, babe,” he teased her. What did he mean by that strange epithet? She was not an infant. No matter. She rolled over towards him and captured her lips with his own to silence his inane babbling.

“Insubordinate tech!” She growled between kisses. “You will provide evidence to support that claim or I shall put you on a charge!”

“Yes, ma’am!” The tech replied and proceeded to do as ordered. 

It was a good job the Pilot’s quarters had good sound proofing, or her neighbours would surely have complained.

Twenty seven very pleasant macrots later, Aeryn was forced to call a halt: “Enough!” she laughed. “I will be late for duty! And so will you!” 

“Just a little longer…?” He pleaded lavishing kisses and caresses on her.

“Enough!” She stated more firmly, but softened it with a smile. “But you will report here at 20th arn this evening for special duties, tech!”

“Yes ma’am!” John grinned as he loosened his embrace and allowed Aeryn to leave her bed and head for the refresher unit.

As he listened to the sounds of her in the shower, John supposed he ought to think about getting up himself, if he didn’t want to piss off Lieutenant Zoldek, the chief tech and his new nominal boss. 

He wondered what his assignment would be today.

@@@

“Hey Gilina, Ralua,” John greeted his two new colleagues with hugs. It wasn’t onerous: Gilina was small, pretty and blonde and Ralua was like an Italian movie star, all dark and smouldering, albeit apparently boggled in his presence. Yeah, things had been going pretty well in the tech lab. 

“You’re late,” Gilina accused, although she smiled as she did it. 

“Yeah, umm sorry about that. Officer Sun was debriefing me…” he winked.

“Again?” Gilina gasped, the tip of her tongue licking her open lips, her eyes wide.

“I told Zoldek you were getting a new Froonium convertor from the stores,” Ralua put in.

“Thanks, hun.” John hugged her. She blushed heavily. “What’s Zoldek got planned for us today, anyway?”

“Something involving a ghost ship on long range sensors. We’ve been ordered to work out what it is.”

@@@

“This is grot work!” Aeryn grumbled as she piloted the Marauder closer to the wreck of the Zelbinion. “What did we do to deserve this?”

“It is very simple, Officer Sun,” Braca answered from behind her. “I am being punished for asking why we are out in the Uncharted Territories, Tech Crichton is here because he is my protégé and you are here because you are his regular recreation partner. As for the rest of our colleagues, I am sure there are similar explanations as to why each of them were assigned to this mission, blots on their records.”

“Huh!” she grunted.

“However, to be positive about this assignment, we are privileged to be the ones chosen to investigate the fate that befell this cultural treasure…”

“Frell that,” Aeryn snorted. “I’d have thought it’s obvious what fate befell this cultural treasure.”

“Really?” Braca quirked an eyebrow as they passed through the gap between the carrier’s main hull and its ring-hull. “Do enlighten me.”

“They met someone with bigger guns.” She deadpanned. 

“Very good,” Braca snorted and almost smiled.

“I try,” she shrugged.

“But I had heard that you like big guns, Officer Sun?” Braca arched an eyebrow in a rare display of facial expression. It was lost on Aeryn as her attention was, at that moment, totally focussed on closing the last few metras between the Marauder and one of the Zelbinion’s docking ports.

“Docking complete, lieutenant,” Aeryn sniffed angrily in reply, eyes locked on the panel in front of her as she made a point of working through the Marauder’s post flight procedures rather than rising to his taunt.

@@@

“Shouldn’t you be helping the other techs over on the Zelbinion?” Aeryn asked with a lopsided grin as John spooned against her, pushing her forwards until she stood leaning against the Marauder’s flight console. “That little blonde one... Renaez..? I know she’d really like you to give her a hand.” Aeryn tested him.

“Why would I give her a hand when I could be giving you a hand?” John growled satisfyingly in her ear as he gave her the benefit of two hands, passing her test nicely. 

Aeryn’s arms were braced on the console and were the only thing supporting their weight, other than their legs, of course. Her hands were thus unable to interfere with his as they wrapped around her, making themselves very useful. Not that she minded that, or the way that his nose nuzzled into her hair, seeking out the sensitive spot on her neck, just below her ear. 

“Crichton, we’re supposed to be…” Any protest she might have thought of making died in a groan of pleasure. She’d never known any recreation partner as attentive or persistent as Crichton. It was really quite addictive. Whatever colony he had sprung from, it certainly wasn’t from within the PK ranks. PK’s were generally far more to the point. It was going to be hard to move on from him. Hard, but not impossible. Compared to turning in Velorek for treason, breaking up with Crichton to avoid an emotional attachment would be easy. 

“Aeryn…?” John murmured.

“MMMM?”

“AERYN!” he repeated more urgently, breaking her from her happy reverie. “What’s that blip!?” He jabbed at the screen to their right, currently showing the mid-range scan set up to detect approaching vessels. 

“Frell! Bad frell!” Aeryn hissed as she hit the comms. “Lieutenant Braca! Everyone! Red Alert! There’s an unidentified ship approaching on a stealth trajectory. I’m on the Marauder. I’m launching straight away to warn them off and so I’m not a sitting target!”

By the time she finished her transmission she was already strapped in to the pilot’s seat and completing pre-flight checks. John similarly strapped himself into the co-pilot’s seat, but otherwise seemed to have little idea of how to help. Well, he was just a tech. For the first time in weekens she felt irritated at his inadequacies, wishing he were at least combat flight crew of some sort.

She hit the button to disengage the docking clamps just a split microt before firing up the engines to half thrust. 

No sooner had the Marauder slipped its moorings than an energy blast hit the docking area where they had been just a couple of microts before. Aeryn breathed a sigh of relief. Crichton started, clearly shocked and a little terrified. Frell! Why had she lumbered herself with a useless tech as a recreation partner again? She really needed to rectify that!

“Who are these creeps?” Crichton babbled. “And how do we…?”

“Sheyang. We are outgunned Crichton. Just the one Marauder isn’t a match…” Aeryn replied, trying not to allow his verbal ramblings to distract her from the task at hand. “But we might be able to scare them off if… FRELL!”

A second energy blast struck a glancing blow to the Marauder just as the attacking ship came into clear view.

“Cholak!” Aeryn gasped. The Sheyang were almost as feared in Peacekeeper ranks as were the Scarrans, if only because of their horrifying, to sebaceans, ability to breathe flaming balls of superheated plasma.

“That’s not good!” John gasped as the sound of the Marauder’s engines faltered and the lights flickered. The giant Sheyang ship now filled their forward viewport, closing down on their crippled Marauder. Crichton was a frelling master of understatement! 

“They’re going to board us…” Aeryn snarled, unfastening herself from the pilot’s seat. If she was going to die, at least she was going to die with a weapon in her hand.

“Then let’s get the guns?” Crichton gabbled, to her barely suppressed irritation. What did he think she was planning on doing? Inviting them over for drinks?

“We can take a few out, but they WILL overwhelm us!” She informed him, fatalistically stating their inevitable doom even as she handed him a light pulse rifle. He stared at it, with the look of someone who clearly had little idea how it worked. She sighed, tutted and rolled her eyes. Useless.

“Board us?” Crichton blurted out, holding the rifle like a broom. “These guys breathe air, right?”

“Balls of fire… oh, air… Yes. So?” She nodded, only half paying attention to him as she wondered where might be the most defensible position.

“Then forget the guns, get your bin liner on quick, I’ve got a plan!” Crichton announced, grinning like an idiot. A very smug idiot. What the frell?

“Bin Laden?” Aeryn began to reply, but then nodded as she saw John starting to pull on one of the black EVA suits.

“We’re going to vent our atmosphere once they’re aboard: let’s see them breathe vacuum, huh?”

A loud clunk sounded through the Marauder as the Sheyang ship docked with theirs. Frell, that crazy plan of his might just save their lives, Aeryn realised with a start.

@@@

“They’re coming in through the treblin hatch,” Aeryn barked, pointing to the door, which was already glowing red from the Sheyang’s attempts to burn through it. John wondered why she was stating the obvious, as they could both see what was happening and where it was happening, but no matter: Here they were, in their suits, almost ready to put his plan into action. 

“Fine, you get to the hamman hatch and get ready to blow it on my signal!” Crichton directed.

“No!” Aeryn riposted firmly. “You go, I’ll stay and tell you when...” 

“Hey, it’s your ship, baby, I don’t know how. But I can tell you when...” he lied. Truth was, he wanted his big, bad warrior woman as far from the danger zone of where the aliens would board as possible. He knew it was irrational, as she was the soldier, but he felt so darned protective towards her.

“Fine!” She nodded once, abruptly, then headed off. “Just try not to get yourself killed, Crichton. I’m not done with frelling you yet!” She told him over the comms as she made her way the short distance to the other hatch. He grinned to himself, already anticipating his reward, surprised to find that the life-threatening situation they were currently in seemed to be stimulating his libido.

The hatch in front of him began to melt and bubble away. He waited for as long as he felt he could until he could clearly see figures moving behind the hole in the attacking ship.

“Now Aeryn! Hit the primary hatch release!”


	4. Four

“Your report says that your boarding party on the Zelbinion was attacked by a Sheyang ship?” Crais remarked with a wry smile, the meaning of which Braca found hard to decode.

“Yes sir,” Braca confirmed, not giving anything away other than exactly what the captain asked. Experience and observation had taught him that inscrutability was an important survival trait for a Peacekeeper officer. 

“Well, congratulations on being alive to report on it,” Crais continued as he returned his attention to the pile of reports on his desk. He began to flick through them.

“We can thank exceptionally quick thinking by the new tech, Crichton, sir,” Braca spoke up, determined to get his commendation out before he was dismissed by the notorious captain. “He and Officer Sun are to be credited for their actions. I recommend a promotion for both of them.”

“The matter is already in hand,” Crais acknowledged without even looking up. 

“Thank you, sir,” Braca nodded curtly.

“Dismissed!” Crais barked with evident irritation. Never one to overstay his welcome, Braca nodded once more, turned on his heel and left.

@@@

“Hey, Gilina, Ralua,” John greeted his two favourite female techs as he invited himself to join them for second meal at their commissary table. “How’re you doin’?” Gilina blushed and tried to hide a grin. Ralua, for her part, seemed completely discombobulated and dumbstruck, as she often did when directly addressed by John. “Not seen you since we got back from the Zelbinion?”

“Well, that’s probably because you’ve been spending all your time with Officer Sun,” Ralua blurted out, then turned bright red and fell silent. Gilina seemed to force a weak smile. Not surprising, really: John knew Gilina had a Thing for him. Hell, back on Earth she’d have been more his type than Aeryn. But Aeryn had got in first, and John now knew enough about the PK’s semi-feudal social mores to realise that Aeryn, as a combat officer and pilot, was like aristocracy compared humble techs like him and Gilina. Gilina would never make a move on him while Aeryn was in the frame. Not in a million years.

“I’ve not seen her, actually, not today,” Now it was John’s turn to frown. He wondered where Aeryn had gotten to. Duties of some sort, he guessed? Duties were legion in the Peacekeepers, after all. He shrugged his worries away.

“Well, while you were off this morning being told about this fancy new job of yours, we were servicing a visiting Marauder,” Gilina coquettishly informed him, stealing a morsel from his food tray and popping it in her mouth.

“Lucky you,” John grinned back. “The snacks in the XO’s office were really excellent, much better than what we get fed here.”

“Hey, there were compensations,” Gilina pouted. Ralua blushed heavily once more. “The captain of the Marauder unit was a tasty dish.”

“Captain La...rock,” Ralua sighed, almost groaned in agreement. “Delicious… And those burgundy uniforms are soooo sexy.”

“Burgundy, huh? What’s the deal with that?” John asked.

“Special forces.” Ralua informed him before bashfully returning her focus to her lunch.

“Maybe I should go check them out?” John teased back. “Any hot ladies in those burgundy uniforms.”

“Just one. A blonde lieutenant. Not your type at all.”

“Who says I don’t like blondes?” John flirted back, rubbing his lip with his thumb and staring at her with a smouldering grin. He was enjoying himself immensely. He made a show of stealing a morsel from Gilina’s tray, to match the one she had so recently taken from his.

“You two should find a room,” Ralua butted in. “If you do, I promise I won’t tell Officer Sun.” She winked. “So long as you let me join in.”

John stared at her for a moment, then laughed and threw something very much like a bread roll at her.

@@@

“Hey Aeryn, I’ve been looking all over for you!” John called out as he ‘accidentally’ almost bumped into her as she exited her quarters. 

“Wow, that new uniform looks good on you, sexy… So, you’ve been promoted to Special Forces?” he asked, glad of the insight that his conversation with Gilina and Ralua had granted him.

“Hello John.” Aeryn stated curtly. She nodded, face a mask and went to walk by him. He blocked her way, she sighed.

“What do you want, Crichton? I’ve got a busy afternoon and I’ll be flying out this evening,” Well, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting, either in attitude or information.

“I got a promotion,” John pressed. “Junior officer. I was hoping we could celebrate later?”

“Congratulations I got a promotion too.” She tapped the lieutenant bars on her wrist. “Lieutenant. And I told you, I can’t later. It comes with a new assignment. Marauder pilot, Special Operations.”

“Well, great,” John persisted. “Let’s go celebrate now!”

Aeryn exhaled heavily. This wasn’t panning out the way John had imagined. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. 

“I can’t Crichton.” She exhaled even more heavily. And then came the bombshell: “I’m having sex with my new captain in quarter of an arn then we leave on after third meal. I’ve got arrangements to make, people to say goodbye to…”

John’s mind tried to parse what she had just told him. But his mind just could not cope. He knew that the Peacekeepers frowned on emotional attachments, that sex was just recreation to them, but he had thought what he had had with Aeryn was special, like a relationship back on Earth.

His pulse pounded in his ears, his face and ears flushed, his skin crawled and his stomach did backflips. How could she be so… matter of fact about it?

“What, what, what? Sex with CRAIS!?” he could hear his tone of voice rising, sense that he was spitting in anger as he spoke, saw that people nearby were starting to stare. He didn’t care. “And what do you mean, people to say goodbye to?” He was almost shouting now.

“With Captain Larraq, visiting special forces. I’ve transferred to his Marauder as his new lieutenant and pilot. I don’t know if we’ll ever be back to this carrier.” She sighed, clearly trying to remain clam as though explaining something to an annoying infant. “He’s not as good as you at it, but then he is a captain, and you’re just a… junior officer…”

“You what? And why does that mean you have to have sex with him!?” He snarled in disbelief. And then suddenly her words hit home. “Jeez! What? You mean you’ve slept with him already!?”

“Slept?” She seemed confused. And then the penny dropped – she didn’t get his colloquialism.

“Slept. Had sex. Frelled!?” He rubbed his forehead with his hands. He simply couldn’t believe this was happening!

She nodded once, sharply, frowning, so he guessed, in incomprehension as to why he would be upset. 

“What do you expect, Crichton? There’s only half a dozen of us on the crew. We’ll probably all be recreating... It’s just sex!” Aeryn was starting to raise her own voice now, clearly starting to lose her temper with him and his response to her news.

“But you were my…”

“I was never yours, Crichton!” She snapped back. “It was just your turn!”

A red mist came down over John’s senses, clouding his thoughts. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He’d thought that he and Aeryn had something special. But then, why would they, when none of the Peacekeeper soldiers seemed to be in normal relationships?

Aeryn was still talking. She had what he took to be an angry and concerned face on. He shook away the red mist. She seemed to be lecturing him now, with the sort of furious intensity of a lieutenant giving a junior officer a thorough dressing-down. 

“… emotional attachments are dangerous, as well as forbidden. How about you go and frell that pretty blonde tech who’s got her eye on you?” She snarled. 

“You do this, Aeryn, and we’ll never see each other again!” He blurted out, pleading, all anger having now subsided. Instead, he was now desperate not to lose her, despite her already admitted infidelity. She was special… she was… Aeryn Sun. His Aeryn Sun. Right now he felt like he’d never felt the same way about another woman in his life.

Aeryn shrugged as though she couldn’t care less, although was that a tiny tear in the corner of one of her eyes? Maybe there was some hope for them?

“Look… You were the best recreation partner I’ve ever had, John Crichton,” she told him more softly, her anger seeming to subside now that he had stopped confronting her. “Maybe someday if we meet up again, and you’ve been promoted a bit more, we can pick up from where we left off?” 

It was an olive branch, that’s how she obviously meant it, in her weird, warped, Peacekeeper way. But somehow it didn’t seem that comforting.

John was totally flummoxed. Lost for words. Aeryn arched an eyebrow, expressing surprise at his uncharacteristic lack of eloquence. He’d been dumped before of course, but this was brutal. But then, from what he’d seen over the last six months or so, so was everything about Peacekeepers’ so called relationships. 

John straightened up, took a deep breath. The storm had passed. People nearby had started going about their normal business again, ignoring them once more.

He shook his head: “I… don’t think so…” he sighed.

John realised that he needed to toughen up if he was to survive emotionally out here. And get promoted if he ever wanted to win back Aeryn, it seemed. He stared her in the eye. She stared straight back at him.

“Goodbye, John.” Aeryn stated flatly, then pushed straight past him and out of his life.

John stood rooted to the spot for at least a minute before he recovered his composure enough to move. Maybe he should make a move on Gilina? But not just yet…

“Fly safe, Aeryn,” John whispered under his breath, then, his emotions finally cauterised, he took his first step as a true Peacekeeper.

The End?


End file.
